Disclaimer: I do not own the characters from DBZ or DBGT, and am using them for entertainment purposes only. No permission was requested from the respective owners, but I am not making any money off of my writings. So leave me alone! ;.;

Author's Notes: Wow, I actually got something done in less then nine months. .;; I would like to write more often, but seeing how it's so hot in New Jersey at the moment (It's been 100 degrees for the last two days. O_O), it will be difficult. Bah, if only we had central air…. Anywho, enjoy!

Chapter Four: Wary Compliance

They've been gone for over an hour," Paresu murmured, glancing at Bulma, Bra, and Marron.

Unknown to the worried brunnette, the youngest Brief had awakened with she felt the ki in space. Bra had desired to tag along, but her protective father had ordered her to remain home. The girl now sat on the couch in the den with her arms folded across her chest as she pouted. Bulma had not yet given into sleep around the time Vejita, Trunks, and Goten were preparing to leave, so she was awake when her son came to tell her what was going on. Marron had come to when Vejita roused Trunks from sleep, and had remained on the couch ever since the father and son departed with Goten. Before they had left, however, Trunks either made or received calls from Gohan, Yamcha, and Krillin, and all three men agreed to make haste to meet at the estimated landing point.

Chi-Chi was left to sleep, as no one really knew what her reaction would be. All remembered how Goku's wife had once demanded that their son stay home and continue on with his education instead of training in order to save the planet. Of course, the protective mother had become mellower over the years, but no one wanted to risk upsetting her since it was unsure what the consequences would be. The reasons for not telling the raven-haired mother were not given to Paresu, however, as was the usual way the situation was handled when the model was around.

Paresu scanned the barely agitated countenance of the other women. "Why are you so calm?"

Marron yawned. "They're big boys, Paresu. They can take care of themselves. Why don't you just go to bed?"

"Why don't you?" was Paresu's quick retort.

"You just look a little irritated. I thought-"

"That you'd send the silly, stupid little model to bed so you could all conspire behind my back?" Paresu interrupted rather shrilly. She paced before Marron. "I know something strange is going on with all of you, and I know this nighttime rendezvous involves it. Goten was going to tell me everything until he left with Trunks and Vejita, and I," she paused to stop in front of the blonde and stuck her hands on her hips, "plan to stay right here until I get some answers!"

There was an awkward silence until Bra said, "Well, you certainly are a paranoid girl, aren't you?"

Paresu opened her mouth to reply when the door, built into the wall behind the couch Marron sat upon, swung open. Each woman focused their attention on the doorway as the persons they'd been awaiting filed into the room. They all exchanged glances when an unfamiliar ivory-skinned woman entered after Vejita.

The prince closed the door behind him as Trunks sat down with Marron, Goten made his way to Paresu, and Gohan stood beside Bulma. Krillin stood behind the couch his daughter and her boyfriend sat upon, while Tien and Chaozu found themselves awkwardly in the center of the room. Yamcha sat next to Bra, nodding a greeting. Serive, with Jinja on her shoulder, stayed by the door, Vejita at her side, and returned the stare of the blue-haired woman who looked between her and Vejita with possessive interest.

"Well, everyone," Gohan said, deciding to make the introductions, "this is Serive. Serive, that's Marron." He pointed to the pink-clad woman, who waved. "That's Paresu." The dark-haired girl looked at the pale woman with interested eyes. "This is Bra." He made a gesture towards the seventeen-year-old, who just studied the pale stranger critically. "And this is Bulma." He nodded his head to the scientist.

Serive immediately noted Marron's hand on Trunks' arm and Goten's arm on Paresu's shoulder. She also noticed the resemblance between Bulma and Bra, and focused her gaze on the older woman. "You are Vejita's mate then." Before Bulma could reply, Serive continued. "When can my ship be ready?"

"What?" Bulma looked at Vejita questioningly.

"Ship?" Paresu repeated, looking around the room. "Does Capsule Corp. make boats?" The frustration began to build in her again when she saw all the others besides Serive glance at each other. She raised an eyebrow. "Wait, do you mean a spaceship-"

"Paresu, let's go to bed, ne?" Goten interrupted, and he hurriedly produced an exaggerated yawn. "It's so late-"

"Hey!" Paresu tried to resist Goten as he carefully pushed her up the stairs. "But you said you'd tell me-"

"I said when the situation is resolved," Goten interrupted, and the couple disappeared from the others' view. "It's not quite fixed yet." The voice was softer then, and faded away as the two vanished down one of the many hallways.

Gohan turned to Bulma. "Her ship was destroyed in her landing," he explained. "She needs a new one if she is to go home."

"As soon as possible!" Vejita snapped.

"But why is she here in the first place?" Bulma asked.

"It doesn't matter." Vejita's arms crossed over his chest.

Bulma's eyes narrowed, and she looked to Serive instead. "What's the problem?"

Serive stared at the aqua-haired scientist for a moment. She had not expected her to be much different than the Saiyajin, despite the concern their son had shown her. "The Saiyajin no Ouji refuses to liberate my planet from a murderous dictatorship."

"Vejita!" Bulma scolded. "How could you be so heartless?"

"Eh, Bulma-san," Gohan said, "I think you are forgetting who it is you're talking to." He looked pointedly at the prince, but was taken aback when the eyes that stared back boiled and a growl reverberated through the room. All fell silent.

"This will not be discussed," the prince instructed with the most intense severity, and no one even took a breath to question him. "I don't care why you think I won't help her, and I don't care if you want to help her." He sneered at Gohan," I don't give a damn what you and your brother decide to do." The onyx glare flashed to his children and wife. "But you will not become involved." His gaze narrowed to Bulma, but the intensity in his voice did not lessen. "She is to be out of here as soon as possible with no delay."

Bulma actually found herself shrinking back. Vejita had not even acted so austerely towards her in the years before Trunks was born. She thought she might actually burst into flames under his eyes until Vejita finally realized she was actually a bit frightened. She hadn't realized it herself until that tiny bit of regret seeped through his gaze. She did not feel worry over being terrified by her own husband, however.

She felt anger.

"What the fuck is your problem?!" Bulma snapped, not noticing Serive jump a bit. Her focus was on her husband. "You march in here and scream demands at me without so much as an explanation and expect me to just follow your orders?" Now she had made her way across the room and her nose was centimeters away from the prince's face. "God, Vejita! I thought you had finally got it into that grossly deformed head of yours that you are not the ruler of this planet! I- Hey!"

Vejita had grabbed her and was now dragging her towards the nearby door to the kitchen. They vanished from the den in the next moment.

"Heh." Marron turned to Trunks. "I never really though about it, but your 'tousan does have a pretty big forehead." She giggled, but stopped when Trunks frowned at her. "What? Just trying to lighten the mood."

Serive stared at the door the couple had disappeared through as she tried to listen to the argument within. The princess could decipher little, but she could tell that the two voices reached the same range in hostility. It was expected, she supposed, that his mate have some Saiyajin-like qualities.

Her thoughts turned to more important matters. She could not return home unaccompanied. She would not doom her planet. Vejita had to come with her. It was obvious that the others were willing to help her, but if was just as apparent that Vejita was the strongest amongst them. She needed him, but no amount of begging- not that she could actually bring herself to her knees before the arrogant jackass- would change his mind.

There was a glint in her eyes. Of course there were so many other ways to persuade the ouji to escort her back to Wycan. Her mind began working at a plan, a plan with fewest variables possible and no room for failure.

You underestimate my resolve, Vejita. We have obviously been apart too long. That shall soon be rectified.

Vejita closed the kitchen door. "You couldn't goddamn wait until later for me to tell you why I want her away from us?" he snapped.

Bulma sneered right back at him. "What did you expect me to do?" Her manner became mocking as she pretended to be meek. "Yes, my prince!" she said in a high voice with her hands clasped together. "As you command!" She returned to normal. "What did she do? Give you a good whack to the head?"

Vejita folded his arms. "I knew her a long time ago. She is not the type of person I want to be in my house."

Bulma's anger subsided at the implication that her husband was worried about his family's safety. "Is she more powerful than you?" she asked bluntly.

Vejita looked away. "No," he muttered, "but she is dangerous in other ways."

"What ways?"

He turned back to her, and the intensity he had unleashed before was beginning to show. "If you comply, she will be gone soon and you will not have to know."

Bulma crossed her arms across her chest, and now the two were mirror images of unrelenting stubbornness. The woman said nothing, however. It was obvious that her husband would tell her nothing more about the woman's abilities. She was curious, however, about another thing. "Is she… were you and she intimately… involved…?"

Vejita reddened. "Why does everyone keep asking that?"

The aqua-haired woman laughed at his expression. "Well, it's a good question, especially for me, to ask."

The prince snorted. "No, we weren't." The blush faded away. "Will you build the ship?"

Bulma was solemn again. "Alright, I will." She frowned. "You won't consider helping her out at all?"

His gaze darkened. "Not even if she were wounded and dying in our living room," was the cold reply.

"Vejita-"

Before Bulma could begin a lecture, the kitchen door swung open and Serive came into the room. Vejita whirled around and was about to berate her for invading their discussion but the Wycanian cut him off.

"Don't concern yourself with it… Bulma, is it?" Serive continued before the human could nod. "Vejita is a grown Saiyajin, capable of making his own decisions, and I can see why he would not be too ecstatic to assist me." She smiled at Bulma, but there was still a glint of coldness in her eyes. She turned to Vejita, and the grin fell into a smirk as her eyes narrowed a bit. "I had hoped you would help me anyway, despite what has happened in the past, but its obvious that, as always, you won't be budged."

Vejita looked back at her and scowled at her cocky expression. She was right; he would never help her willingly, and any attempt to force him would surely result in her death. Then why did she look so sure that he'd change his mind?

"If I cannot somehow manage to convince you by the time the ship is prepared, Saiyajin no Ouji, I shall leave with no fuss." There was a flicker in her white pupils and the one side of her mouth crooked up even more.

And Vejita knew. He knew she had thought of some way to manipulate him. His eyes flashed to Bulma, who stared at the two of them curiously, and when his gaze came back to hers it was as if she were acknowledging his thoughts with her eyes. A low growl came from his throat and he leaned towards her threateningly, but she did not retreat in any manner. After a short stare down Serive finally turned away the made her way to the door.

Before going back into the den, she stopped. She looked over her shoulder at Bulma, than further back to the prince. "A human, eh, Vejita? I never thought you'd settle down with anyone, much less live with a weak foreigner and have two children with her." She ignored Bulma's glare at being referred to as fragile. "I do suppose if you couldn't find someone to train with, someone to protect would do just as well," she said, emphasizing "protect."

Vejita's fingers twitched as she left the room. That was it. He didn't even know why he hadn't killed her in the first place.

Serive stepped into the kitchen, and Trunks could hear more discussion. Since he could sense no escalation (although his father's ki had been abnormally tense all night) he did not follow.

He looked around at everyone. "I suppose it would be okay if you guys went on home," he said to all but Marron and Bra. "I think we'll be able to handle everything from here.

Tien frowned. "I don't know, Trunks. Serive and your otousan don't seem to be on very good terms."

"He hates her," Chaozu said bluntly, "and she's mean."

Yamcha stepped forward. "Don't you think we should stay just for tonight, anyhow? Until Vejita gets used to her being here?"

Trunks shook his head. "Nah, we'll be fine. You know how strong 'Tousan is, and Goten and I are here. Bra can even jump in if need be," he added, ignoring his sister sticking her tongue out at him for being mentioned last.

"We always assume things will be fine with the strongest," Gohan reasoned, "and it's always a mistake, Trunks."

"But the bad guy has always killed or wounded one of us by now," Trunks shot back. "Don't you all think its possible that for once everything will be fine?"

It was then that Serive came back into the living room, and by the time everyone looked up Vejita was close behind her. His arm was pulled back, and in a flash he had energy gathering in his palm. Serive's eyes flickered to the side at the bright light, and then suddenly her piercing gaze was on Trunks.

The young man felt a jerk in his arm and heard Marron scream, and when he turned to his girlfriend he cried out at the sight of his own hand around her throat.

"Trunks! What are you doing?" Bra shrieked, and she was soon trying to help Krillin pry Trunks' fingers from Marron's neck.

Not that Trunks wasn't doing his best to regain control over his limb. It was difficult, what with the panic he felt at seeing Marron's face turning darker and darker and the alarming shouts of his father invading the concentration he could muster. God, this couldn't be happening! Marron couldn't die! Not like this, at his own hands! Not at all, not when he hadn't even had a chance to ask her to marry him! Trunks was putting all of his effort into yanking himself away, but even with the help of Gohan, Tien, and Yamcha his hand was like a vice at Marron's wind pipe.

"Stop it!" Trunks screamed when her eyes began to roll in the back of her head. "STOP IT, GOD DAMN IT!!!" And suddenly he was pulled over the arm of the couch, on the floor with Gohan, Tien, and Yamcha sprawled around him. He held arm up before him, and wiggled his fingers to be sure that they were free, that they were no longer pressing into Marron's delicate throat.

There was only heavy breathing from everyone now in the aftermath of their alarm. Serive was the only calm one, once again giving Vejita the same confident, threatening expression she had worn in the kitchen.

"I shall see you all tomorrow morning," she said with mocking politeness before vanishing into a hallway.

Marron was standing now, carefully covering her darkening throat with a hand. Even though she knew that Trunks had not tried to choke her on purpose, she couldn't dismiss the horror she felt, even when staring at him now. He looked back at her, his wide, frightened eyes begging for forgiveness. But she was still so terrified, fearing what may happen if she attempted to give and receive consolation.

Marron fled the room, and Trunks got up to follow her. He was stopped by his mother, however, who shook her head and nodded to Bra. The young girl got up and chased after the blonde instead, leaving Trunks with the lingering helplessness and dismay.

"Should we pick our own rooms?" Yamcha said to Bulma.

Serive strolled down a hallway, looking for a room in which she could stay for the remainder of her visit. She had been looking for guestrooms for some time now, and had not seen another soul. Even when she found herself back in the living room there had been no one in sight; no one had wanted to stick around to see what else she might do. At least for now anyhow. A look at a clock on the wall told her that it was three in the morning. They all must have wanted a good rest before keeping watch over her.

Like in other areas of the building, all the doors in this hallway were closed, so she picked a door at random. Her red-clawed hand rested on a knob, but before she cold open it she heard soft noises and a slow creaking of bedsprings. She passed that room over and continued down the hall, ignoring the following doors in favor a more isolated room.

That Paresu girl seemed to be out of the loop; she obviously knew nothing of Vejita's past, while all the other's did. Although with Goten's words when he dragged her it was obvious that he had meant to make her more included, and Serive's presence had ruined his intentions.

She heard more noises in the other rooms, although these noises were only that of shifting in beds, steady breathing or snoring, not sounds of coupling as in Goten and Paresu's room. Serive determined that she had indeed discovered the guest rooms. She walked down about a couple dozen doors down from the occupied quarters, chose another door, and opened it.

She had gone too far down. This seemed to be a storage room of some kind; not for broom and mops or circuits and tools, however. It was a small room with shelves on the three sides for keepsakes, and there were also boxes, some closed and labeled, others left open, in the middle of the floor. The Wycanian woman flicked on the light and closed the door behind her. She wasn't very tired; she'd slept a lot on her journey. A little research on how Vejita came to be here would entertain her for a while.

Serive looked around, wondering where she should start. She found a photo album, and after a few moments of studying the binding she read the words "Our Wedding" on the bind. She'd spent so much time on her own planet ever since she'd made it home, that it would take her a while before she was able to read other languages with no trouble. She flipped the album open and looked at the first two pictures.

In the top picture was Vejita's mate, in a room that appeared to be within Capsule Corporations. She was dressed in white garb with intricate designs etched into the bodice. Her hair was done up and held a veil that hung over her face, and a long train stretched out behind her. She held a bouquet of pink flowers in one hand. The other hand was frozen by her head, as if she were adjusting the tulle over her face as she looked in a mirror. She appeared to be quite happy in the photo, as did a dark-haired woman who was bent down and inspecting the train.

In the picture below that was the prince in a different room, as the mirror was on the opposite side and there was a window on the far wall. The prince was indifferent for the most part, other than looking somewhat uncomfortable in the clothing he wore. His attire reminded Serive in what she'd seen Gohan wearing earlier that night, only the princes pants and jacket were black and the shirt white. The ebony cloth about his neck was tied into a bow, and he wore shiny black shoes.

Serive flipped through some more pictures. Each photo assured her that a "wedding" was a joining ceremony, like the noijas on Wycan. Of course, like with all different cultures the traditions were different. Serive snickered to herself at one photo in which Bulma was smooshing a piece of cake into a surprised prince's face. In the next photo the woman was no longer laughing as the prince retaliated in the same manner.

"What odd creatures…" Serive muttered to herself, glancing at a picture of an long vehicle with dark windows and cans tied to a bumper on the back.

Serive closed the photo book and replaced it on the shelf. She selected a green one without writing on the bind and flipped it open. These pictures seemed to be at a much more casual event involving a grill and sprinklers and dancing. The photos weren't much more interesting, except for the occasional shot of a Namekian that raised her interest, and another man she hadn't seen in any of the wedding photos.

Serive whirled around when the door creaked open. The princess fell back into a fighting stance as a dark silhouette entered the room, but once the figure was clear, she relaxed.

"What are you doing?" Bra asked, keeping her guard up.

Serive looked back down at the photographs. "Learning."

"About otousan?"

Serive only nodded as she flipped a page. She frowned a bit. She had repeatedly seen the same man in many of the pictures, and what with his implied relationship with the Briefs family it was odd that he hadn't been there tonight. His hair was dark and spiked out every which way. He was tall and muscular, and in the pictures he was dressed in orange pants and a matching vest with a blue shirt underneath. Serive pointed at him in a photo in which he was laughing with a hand behind his head as a nearby Vejita rolled his eyes. "Who is this?"

Bra made no move to get closer to the woman, and did not respond.

Serive sensed the girl's caution and looked up. "I'm not going to hurt you, girl," she assured her.

Bra looked the woman up and down and took a few steps closer. Still some paces from the Wycanian, the girl leaned over a bit to get a better view of the picture. Her eyes flickered with recognition and she smiled sadly. "That's Son Goku," she said softly. "The greatest warrior who ever lived…"

Serive flipped the pages again to see more shots of the party. "Who said that? Your okaasan?"

"'Tousan did." Bra giggled when the pale woman looked up at her skeptically. "In so many words," she amended. "Goku was a Saiyajin, but he lived almost his entire life on Earth and spent most of his days protecting it."

"'Was' a Saiyajin? What happened to him?"

Bra moved closer and looked at the album. "He finally gave up everything to stop the chaos the dragonballs caused."

"Dragonballs?"

Bra blinked and glanced up from the photo book. She was a bit surprised to find herself face to face with Serive, but she recovered quickly. "Oh, well…" Bra laughed. "Oh, there's just too much to tell. Anything I said would only lead to more questions."

"So? I'm not tired."

"Well, I am," Bra admitted with a yawn. "I only came here because… well… I was afraid you would…"

"I will do nothing else if not provoked," Serive told her. She looked the girl up and down with consideration, and continued. "Let's say you and I spend some time together tomorrow, and you can tell me this long tale of the great Son Goku."

Bra blinked, then shook her head. "No, I can't." She backed away. "No offense, lady, but 'Tousan says that you're dangerous, and I can't say I disagree."

"But, as I said before," Serive replied, "I only harm when provoked. You cannot say your otousan attacking me would not warrant some sort of retaliation."

Bra frowned. "You almost killed Marron."

"Almost, but didn't." Serive clarified. She was getting frustrated with her curiosity over the story of Goku and the reluctance of Vejita's daughter. "I promise you that I will do nothing if not encouraged. Besides, you are perfectly capable of protecting yourself, are you not?"

Bra hesitated, and Serive waved her hand in dismissal. "Just think about it. All I want is to hear a story. That shall do no harm, no?" the lava-haired woman closed the album and put it back on the shelf. "Now then, how about you show me to a room? Your home is quite… extensive."

"Alright," Bra opened the door, then closed it after Serive left the room. "We are billionaires, you know," she informed her and she headed down the hallway.

Serive fell into step beside her. "I figured as much."

Bra stopped in front of a room that, to Serive's content, was a ways off from the other occupied rooms. "Will this one be okay?" she asked, opening the door.

Serive stepped inside the room and quickly took in her surroundings. "Yes, this will be fine." She turned and gave Bra a smile. "Thank you for your assistance…"

"Bra," the aqua-haired teenager filled in.

"Bra," Serive repeated with a nod. "Well, you get to your own room. I hope you consider talking with me tomorrow." And with that she shut the door, leaving Bra alone in the hallway.

The girl set off to her own room, analyzing her experience with Serive. It seemed that the woman was the type who wanted to know everything about everything. The Briefs daughter had noticed how, like her father, the Wycanian was very observant; as the saying goes, knowledge is power, and it seemed to be her motto. But, like anyone, she wasn't perfect. Serive obviously took Bra for a silly teenage girl. She must have assumed that anything she wanted to know about Vejita, or anyone else, she could find out from his daughter, and therefore determine weaknesses that could be manipulated.

Well, the Briefs girl was not that foolish. After all, she had invited Serive to stay in a monitored room.